the worst hangover

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ᔕᕼᗩᗯᑎ

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ᔕᕼᗩᗯᑎ

ᗴᗩᖇᒪƳ ᗩᑌǤᑌᔕ
ᗰᎥᗩᗰᎥ, ᖴᒪᗝᖇᎥᗪᗩ

❤️

We had just finished a series this week against the Miami Marlins, having swept all three games. I was looking forward to getting back home and seeing Layla... God, did I miss her during road games?

Like you wouldn't believe.

As usual, after a win, a bunch of the guys decided to head out to a club to celebrate and although all I wanted to do was lay up in my hotel room and FaceTime with my wife, I promised Marco I'd come out tonight. His wife Chelsea was being induced next week and that meant his nights out with the boys were being traded in for night-time changes and bedtime stories.

"I just can't wait until he's finally here," Marco said about his soon-to-be-born son, who they'd already named Micah.

"Just a couple more days, man. You ready?" I asked, sipping slowly on my cranberry-vodka cocktail. Our flight was at noon, but I didn't wanna be too hungover on the way back home.

"I've been ready, man. He's already perfect. The perfect mix of me and Chels," he said with a smile on his face.

"I feel you," I said over the loud music as the bottle-girl brought over another bottle of Grey Goose.

The petite blonde eyed me for a moment before I brought my attention back to Marco.

"Speaking of... when are you and Layla gonna pop out a Mini-Coop?" he asked with a smirk.

I smiled and shook my head, downing the rest of my drink.

"Honestly? Whenever she's ready, man. I told her on our first date that she was gonna have my kids, I'm just waiting on her," I said honestly.

Even before we got married, the subject of having kids was already on the table.

We knew we were young, but we were ready to start our family.

Layla said she always wanted a big family, and I did too, so we agreed once her last album was finished, we'd actively start trying for a baby.

In the meantime, we were 'playing it' by ear.

In the kitchen.

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